As Brutus and I approach the shuttle, we find its pilot discussing with several engineers near the engines. When she notices us, she dismisses them, and the motley crew proceeds with moving their equipment away. With a surprised look, the shuttle pilot gives the customary Mafia salute. “Back so soon?!” She asks in a pleasantly surprised tone, her eyes shifting between the two of us “I was giving input to the Montepuez’s crew on what needed some maintenance—but if you need to depart now…”
“Sorry to interrupt you like this, Carla,” Brutus remarks, “yes, our meeting with the Don ended sooner than expected, and good grief,” Brutus sighs with a shrug of his shoulders, “if I had to be in the same room as that bastard I’m not sure how much more I could handle!” Brutus quips. Carla nods before she fixates her gaze on me.
“Is the Madame alright? Er… not that it’s any of my business,” she says scratching her head “I overheard there was some commotion earlier. When she and her entourage debarked from their shuttle and headed into the Montepuez, they had a menacing aura around them,” Carla frowns “what was that about? I mean… if it’s alright to share with me. Brutus heaves a deep breath. He glances over at me as if waiting for permission to answer. After a few seconds, Brutus expresses to Carla that I am fine if a little shaken after a slight scuffle with the woman in question. Brutus then asks for her to start up the shuttle for we are to depart as soon as possible.
“Right away, sir,” Carla presses a button on a console on the rear side of the shuttle and waits for the ramp to descend, “this probably doesn’t need to be asked… but I assume the two of you wish to head back to the Castelforte?” Brutus opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“Actually, the Scarface has something else in mind—“
“The Taiga,” I mellow remark to Brutus’s surprise, “I wish to locate and head for the Taiga—at your earliest convenience, ” I look up to a confused Carla with a grimacing grin, “and with the utmost haste if you find it possible, miss Carla.”
“The Taiga… huh?” Carla muses crossing arms under her breasts, “I see… I think that belongs to that lanky woman? Er…” she recants after getting a glare from Brutus “sorry, er… miss Kaiser? I think her name was…” Carla takes a few steps back to use the console and activate the shuttle’s doors, “very well! You can go ahead and wait inside—it’s far too chilly in here but at least it’s well-ventilated inside,” Carla remarks as she heads inside the shuttle first. Brutus follows suit but stops when he realizes I do not join him.
“Madame?” Brutus asks curiously, following my gaze to the hallway we departed, “you’re worried about the Jean thing still, aren’t you?” I decidedly don’t respond. This prompts Brutus to return and caress my shoulders, “languishing over it won’t do, Madame…” unexpectedly, Brutus quickly recoils his hand into a clenched fist. When I look up at him out of curiosity, he frowns while biting on his lower lip. “Sorry,” he murmurs, rubbing his hand, “it’s easy to forget that you don’t like being touched… especially after what—“ his train of thought is interrupted when I reach over and stroke his enormous hands with my comparably small hands.
“Is that what you were worried about?” I ask warmly, wincing a smile “concerned that I will lash out at you of all people, Brutus?” I ask in a more somber tone. Brutus doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear to me from his expression that he is pained as I am from the incident from earlier. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Brutus,” I say squeezing his hand before releasing it, “please.”
The giant oaf doesn't say another word, his eyes averted. Brutus takes a few steps back and excuses himself to head first into the shuttle passenger area. I suspect Brutus is still hung over the rejection I gave him when we were still in the Castelforte. Coupled with my near-death experience, he must be holding himself responsible for failing to act sooner on Jean’s sudden attack. If I had died there and then, it would drive Brutus into the depths of despair and thus, I liken it wounds him greatly to see me like this. Perhaps the man is frustrated with himself for not being supportive enough., and being constrained by what he constitutes as going too far and not enough. Likewise, it hurts me to see him behave like this too.
Without another word, I enter the shuttle long after Brutus. I sit across from the brooding man and proceed with strapping myself in. Neither of us says a word as the shuttle finishes preparations. Carla peeks in and lets us know the shuttle will proceed with takeoff. Followed sometime later with a subtle jerk of motion as the shuttle disembarks from the Montepuez into space. As my father’s ship slips further into the distance, I close the adjacent window shutter and lean against the seat: head propped up to the wall. Jean… I can only hope Beatrice keeps her word and doesn’t punish Jean enough. The poor woman has endured so much already. She doesn’t need any more suffering after losing a loved one she held so dear.
I take out the blemished bandanna and stroke its fine, soft texture. Jung… if I had arrived just minutes earlier, would you have survived? Would our chances of fruitless sacrifices be cut in half if he survived? The lackluster effectiveness of the survivors in the asteroid battlefield was all too apparent—why, oh why, did I not realize it sooner? Why was his death not reported?
But on that thought, I suppose it does make sense. If the truth was broadcasted to the rest of the fleet—and possibly by a Metropolitan interception—it would have spelled disaster. Jean and that Wulfhere roughneck were likely aware of this dilemma and must’ve kept silent… even if it meant that the battle would have been lost anyway. It’s a miracle that I managed to arrive as the Wulf perished.
I tug at my chest. And even so, the death of Jung is merely another corpse for the mountain of souls I’ve let down. I discarded so many to achieve a resolution that is flimsy at best—and for who knows how long will last. The fact that I was nearly killed by someone who has nothing left to lose shows just how most view me as.
And even then, I didn't decide to assess the damage myself, nor did I ignore the Don’s order to come to the Montepuez. I seemingly showed no regard for the well-being of all my subordinates. I had no concern for those that lived and those that died. Thinking back on what Brutus said, it’s hard to believe that many would look up to me as an elder sister—let alone a mother figure. I’m nothing less than a monster: no better than that dreadful man I call an adoptive father. I lean forward, covering my face with the bandanna and caressing both the bandanna and my deforming facial scar with heavy sighs.
I’m a full-fledged murderer, aren’t I, Olga? My entire life has been nothing but commanding others to kill and be killed on my behalf. Do I deserve to be loved? To be loved by others as a sister or a motherly figure? Was I merely lying to myself when I told Richter that I truly care for the wellbeing of my subordinates? Was Richter right on his assumptions, after all? Olga… Emmanuel… Jung. I’m sorry. I let you all down, didn’t I? I don’t deserve the right to a big sister or motherly figure to anyone. And how could I?
A clear of the throat from across the compartment. Lifting my face from the slightly wet bandanna and through blurry vision it is the pilot that catches my attention. She looks over with concern at Brutus before shifting her gaze back at me.
“If it’s a bad time to report now…” she starts before I cut her off.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“No, do not mind me,” I reply, surprised at my fragile tone, “did you encounter any problems with locating the Taiga?” I continue while carelessly wrapping the bandanna over in my hands. When I look up at Carla again, my heart sinks a little when she bites down on her tongue, frowning.
“Well…” she starts, grimacing more “the Taiga…
“The Taiga seemed to be scuttled, ” Carla says grimly. My head spins at the revelation. Ever-increasing dizziness. Brutus, who had unbuckled sometime after take-off. Jumps to his feet and slams Carla against the wall.
“What the hell do you mean?!” Brutus demands. It’s hard to tell, but it does seem like the oaf has lifted her off the ground by the collar. Carla lets out a few surprised cries. “Are you trying to cause more stress to the Madame than what she already has?!” The Taiga? Scuttled? I can barely fathom it. I don’t want to believe it. If it was scuttled, then does that mean…?
“Let her go, Brutus,” I say softly, but the man doesn’t relent. He only slams her against the wall again, which releases another cry from the poor pilot. I shout his name this time, straining my throat in the process. A slight migraine.
This time, Brutus does obey, letting her collapse to the floor. He turns his back to her, disgruntled, and makes his way back to his seat and crashes down on it. His stern eyes averting mine. I get up from my seat this time, giving Brutus a brief glare before kneeling next to her and helping her stabilize.
“I’m sorry for his actions,” I say softly, caressing Carla’s neck and shoulder “it’s unlike him to behave in such a way… so irrational,” she averts her strained eyes briefly before locking eyes with me. “If you want someone to hate, then pin it on me for it is my subordinate’s actions are my responsibility”
“Such nonsense to say,” Carla mutters, her eyes shifts to Brutus for a second “it’s my fault for not getting the chance to specify more—”
“Never mind that, the Taiga’s crew…” I say quickly, biting down on my lower lip “—were they evacuated?” I ask while helping Carla up.
“From communicating with other pilots, I learned that most of its crew were ferried to the Mathilda,” her eyes lower to the floor, “but as for who and how many were sent before it was scuttled, I have not the slightest inkling,” Carla clears her throat, “but I do know for certain it is the Mathilda.”
“Do you know…” I pause, wondering if Carla is familiar with Sergi at all, but it is worth a shot to ask, “—do you know if an officer named Sergi went there as well?” Carla ponders the question before giving a nod.
“The recent flightpath records I went through did show that, among them, I did make out the name Sergi. And I didn't notice it left the Mathilda yet.”
A token of relief, but I still do not know Olga’s fate. “Thank you, miss Carla—thank you from the bottom of my heart,” I say warmly, bearing intense pain for a smile, “if you can, please transport us to the Mathilda and await further instructions.” With that, I see Carla off into the cockpit. Then, I take my seat opposite Brutus again.
After what seems like forever, Brutus breaks the silence with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Madame,” he utters, his eyes still averting mine “I don’t know what got a hold of me…”
“Well, you are Brutus, a giant brute,” I remark warmly as I stroke Julius’s bandanna. Flustered, Brutus only offers a heavy exhale and sags to the left. But once Brutus eyes the bandanna, he straightens up with a puzzled look.
“That cloth…” he mutters, “now that I think about it… may I see it?” His gaze shifts to me, “if you’re alright with that, I mean. It would be an understatement to say that it looks precious to you. If you don’t want to let me see it for a second…” with great reluctance, I stroke the bandanna a few times while pondering the question. I cut loose a sigh, and hesitantly hand it over to Brutus. He takes it with both hands and examines it closely. Time passes, and Brutus lowers it to his lap. He gently wraps the bandanna up, sighing all the while. “This bandanna,” he starts handing it over to me “…it belongs to that rascal—Julius, right?” I quietly take the bandanna from him and unroll it in my lap. Just the utterance of the name gives me heartache. I stare at the crimson handkerchief for a little longer, before looking up at Brutus and giving a nod.
“I take it…” Brutus stops before clearing his throat, “I take it the man died?” Another heavy-hitting question that makes my heart sink. My gaze drops to Brutus’s boots, and I stroke my chin scar. Without another word, I give a slight nod. Brutus leans forward in his seat and clasps his hands together. He breathes in deeply, and exhales just as much. Then a scoff follows. “That man… Julius,” Brutus begins “he was like a brother to me. He was always a prankster —a jokester at heart,” Brutus cracks a sad grin, nodding all the while “back before this all started—we used to hang out in bars across Brunsb üttel. We shared a lot of fond memories…” Brutus shuts his eyes briefly, greatly pained by those words, “he once confided in me that he loved you, Madame.”
Huh?! I stopped caressing the bandanna, my cheeks flush red amid the aching pain. Julius was in love with me…?
“When we found out that the Federation was invading, the last Julius spoke to me about was how he was going to lay bare his feelings and confess to you,” Brutus’s hurtful eyes trail off to the side “he seemed awfully serious about the idea, too. When he had his mind on something, he’ll do it.”
“Brutus… this is…” I mutter, holding the bandanna closer to my chest “I’m not sure what to say…,” considering Brutus’s drunk confession to me back on the Castelforte, am I to take it that the two competed for my love? Before I can deliberate any more on the topic, Brutus shakes his head with another scoff.
“It’s nothing to dwell on,” Brutus remarks apologetically “after my rejection, I realized he probably had a better chance with you than I did, and now…” Brutus squeezes his hands “well… I’m sure that in heaven or hell, I’m sure he would be happy to know that you carry around a reminder of him… a reminder that he once lived.” I bring the bandanna closer to my chest, squeezing through the clothes so hard that my nails dig into my palm.
“Do you resent me… for letting him die?” I ask quietly. Brutus shakes his head and gets up from his seat to sit next to me. Without another word, Brutus wraps one arm around me, resting his burly hand on top of my head.
“You always have these strange ideas in your head, Li,” Brutus replies “you did all you could… I’m not that Jean lady. What has happened, happened, Li. You can’t prevent everyone’s deaths…” Brutus remarks stroking my head “there’s only so much you can do before from the safety of the Castelforte. Julius knew the risks being a courier pilot… he volunteered for the role so that nobody else would take on the dangerous job. it was only a matter of time before he would have died, especially during the heat of a battle,” Brutus says quietly. Afterward, the two of us remain in silence as Brutus holds me close to him and strokes my head.
Eventually, we must’ve started docking into the Mathilda, since there is a slight rocking motion as the Shuttle stabilizes itself and aligns onto the gravitational runway strip of the ship, and the rays of sunlight get briefly shrouded by the dimly lit interior of the Mathilda. From the cockpit, Carla confirms that we are close to descending on a landing pad.
When the shuttle lands, Brutus releases his grip on me and I scoot away to get up and head for the rear of the shuttle. Without looking back, I activate the ramp door using the console and wait for the ramp to lower, while I wait, I turn my attention back to the still-sitting Brutus.
“Back at Valspon… when I returned from the Yilan, Julius promised me he would share a drink of the finest champagne in Toscana once we returned to the Brunsbüttel,” I say warmly “of course… now that isn’t possible. But I hope that in his stead, the two of us can drink to his memory,” I say. Brutus’s cheeks flush red, and he scratches the back of his neck as he awkwardly repositions himself in his seat.
“I’ll, uh… an interesting offer. I reckon if I did that, Julius will beat the living shit out of me when I see him in Hell,” Brutus says wryly, grinning “but I’ll think about it. It’ll be on the table for a while,” with that, I take a few steps out of the shuttle, but stop.
“You aren’t coming with me, Brutus?” I ask in surprise, as Brutus hasn’t moved from his seat yet. He merely leans forward: his arms resting on his knees. After a brief moment, Brutus stares at his feet before looking back at me.
“I just got a little bit of thinking to do,” Brutus responds “and make up with Carla for what I did earlier. I’ll join you in a little while.”
“Very well, don’t be too long,” I say, excusing myself and heading off onto the ramp. The blinding light is only brief before my eyes adjust to the hanger’s illumination.
At last, I’m here. Please… please be alive, Olga!